


Mindless, Spineless

by myspookyjoshdunchristmas



Category: Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Betrayal, Comfort, Control, Crying, Depression, Fictional, Forced Marriage, Hatred, Hurt, Lies, M/M, Manipulation, Mental Abuse, More tags to be added, Pain, Physical Abuse, Romance, Ryden, Self Harm, Slavery, Trigger Warnings, brallon, fueled by ramen - Freeform, joshler - Freeform, past ryden, psychological abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-08 02:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10376133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myspookyjoshdunchristmas/pseuds/myspookyjoshdunchristmas
Summary: It's been almost ten years since Brendon signed his life away to Fueled By Ramen. He was oblivious to the sinister side of the music industry, control, pain, force, all of which were used to keep him in check.He suffered, Josh suffered, Tyler suffered. It's not a one time thing, it's everyday. There's no escaping it. There's no one to tell without major action being taken. Someone can die, someone can get hurt, family, friends, loved ones.They aren't allowed to write their own songs, schedule their everyday lives, marry of their choice. Major mistakes can prove fatal.Several places have been bugged, this could range from their apartments, their family homes, favourite hotspots to gather at.Once you're dropped from the label, that's it. There's no going back, there's no discussion of the label even when you're gone, no associating with their current artists. Also the artists are not allowed to associate themselves with past colleagues.Everything they must do, must be up to standard. They must play instruments to their full potential, perform their best and to not talk back to the staff, all which can result in physical damage or mental damage, both of which are not their choice.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, new fic, this is going to be dark as anything. So if you can take it, read on. If not, take caution. 
> 
> This is all very fictional by the way. None of this is true and I'm sure none of these amazing artists are harmed.

He doesn't know how many days it's been since he signed himself into the music industry. He doesn't know how many days it's been since he signed his life into someone else's hands and gave everything he had away, just to be a musician. And with every passing day, he regretted it, painfully. 

 

The whole reason was just to make music with his best friends and live life like young teenagers. But that wasn't this, this cruel life. No, it was hell and everyone who made the music business sound amazing, needed to go hell, he told himself. Whatever he was living, this life as you'd call it, wasn't worth breathing for. He gave something away and he wasn't in control of anything. 

 

What he did, what he wrote, where he performed, who he collaborated with, who he spoke to, who he would love and marry. 

 

Wasn't his decision.

 

Nothing had been his since the day he signed those papers, when he shook hands, when he hugged his old bandmates. He was pretty sure that this wasn't the life any other musician lived. 

 

Brendon groaned in his bed, wiping his eyes and groggily looking up to the ceiling.

It was 5am in the morning and work was going to start soon. Not his work, their work. He was just a puppet in it all. The male placed a hand on his forehead, trying to block out the throbbing pain as he tried to sit up carefully, trying hard not to distract the stranger next to him. 

 

The stranger being his wife of three years, Sarah Orzechowski. Their marriage, their life was just a sham to all who knew them, including Brendon's and Sarah's family. He was told to tell them that he loved her, he was told to meet her at his concert and this was the outcome now. Deep down, Sarah didn't want this either, she had someone else, her heart yearned for someone else and that wasn't Brendon. He could understand, it didn't hurt him for he had someone else, the same person who left him here to rot all alone. The same person who was probably living free, who didn't come back to save him. 

 

After a few sniffles, Brendon threw off the covers and headed off into the washroom. He looked at the man in the mirror. That wasn't the same man he knew ten years ago, the same man who sung with his friends, who saw his life to be all about fame and recognition. Fame, sorta, recognition, check, happiness? Definite no. This wasn't happiness. This was torture, pain and absolute effort to be living a life like this because Brendon knew the consequences of stepping out of line, for not doing what they wanted could cause Brendon the worst kind of pain. Not only would they threaten to harm him, they would also try and hurt people Sarah knew and care about and she would always make sure that she told Brendon that everything was his fault.

 

An innocent villain she called him. Innocent for being forced to marry her whilst being kicked around. A villain for ruining her life and getting caught up in the music business. That was basically blaming him for having talent. But Brendon couldn't blame Sarah for anything, nothing was her fault. Whether it was him or someone else, she'd still be caught up in it all, somehow, these people were bastards and if Brendon could, he'd kill them all, watch them suffer for taking the perfect life he had away from him. 

 

After taking a shower and throwing on some clothes, Brendon was already en route to work. He didn't want to be late.

 

No, he couldn't be late, otherwise he would have to face the consequences. For every small thing, for every tiny mishap, there was a consequence. The punishment was always something cruel and mentally straining. Usually mentally, sometimes physically.

 

Just last week, Brendon was punished, just for defending himself. 

 

-•Last Week•-

 

"Haha, yeah I mean look how gay he is. Fucking retard." Dave chortles, one of the men who work for the label. Beside him is another guy named Steve, he works for them too. "No wonder Ryan ran away from his puny ass, he's so scrawny, he's pathetic, I dunno know why FBR still own this trash pile." Steve says, sipping on his coffee. 

 

Brendon stands inside the recording booth shaking. One, with fear. Two, with rage. He hated his label and everyone who worked for it, believe it or not, they scared him. But mentioning Ryan in front of him or making references about the two being together, he could not take. It triggered him to the point of not thinking rationally, so he would always act irrationally.

 

"They must have had some real good moments in bed for him to have this asshole the way he is."  Dave says and laughs with his friend, realising how much they annoy the singer. They know it, they know how much it hurts him, they know how much he's going to react, that's why they do it, to see Brendon suffer.

 

It wasn't long before Brendon ripped the headphones off of his skull and threw them to the ground. He was already storming out of the booth and aiming a punch directly into Dave's nose. Whilst he squirmed and held his face on the ground, Brendon aimed a punch into Steve's jaw seething, breathing in and out, feeling blood oozing on his knuckles. As the two groaned, Brendon was kicked back into his senses and then his face softened into complete regret and terror.

This was bad.

 

"I-I'm s-sorry, I didn't m-mean to. I-I wasn't t-thinking." He tries to reason with the hurt men on the ground. One of which is quick to pull out his walkie talkie and call for back up. 

 

"We need your assistance, studio four. He needs time in confinement."

 

It wasn't long before two men bust down the door and head directly for the singer, pushing him to the ground, mushing his face against the floor and tying his hands into tight metal cuffs whilst he screamed and pleaded. 

 

"l DIDN'T MEAN IT! I'M SORRY!" He yelled, defenceless against the strong guys, pulling him away, Dave and Steve knew it would hurt but to see Brendon being dragged away and tortured gave them great pleasure. They knew he deserved everything he got. 

 

He cried as he was being pulled harshly against the ground and he groaned as his body collided harshly against the floor as they threw the singer into a small square room with no windows, no toilet, no nothing, just plain empty. Brendon had been here before too and he was terrified of this place, especially because of what they did to him mentally from inside the small space.

 

"Please I'm sorry, I promise I won't do it again." He wailed to the two men who had no looks of remorse on their faces whilst an almost thirty year old man begged and cried like a four year old child. They slammed the door shut in front of the singers face and Brendon just banged on the inside, demanding to be let out. 

 

He knew that wasn't going to work since he'd done it so many times before and not once was he let out. The man curled up onto the floor and cried, waiting for the usual to happen on days like these. The worst part was, Brendon didn't know when it was going to happen. Sometimes he would lay there for long periods of time and the punishment would be delayed, making him lose it, unable to figure out when they would torture him. 

 

It began and he wailed louder, covering his ears, sick of hearing that song over and over again. When everything went bad, when Brendon was left alone, he avoided all tracks from previous times, this one being one of the top. 

The people who worked here noticed he'd thrown away the albums too and they realised that this would be perfect for mentally torturing him. Reminding him of how he didn't have his band mates and his ex-lover. Perfect torture.

Over and over the same song would loop inside that small room. Nine in the afternoon. Brendon hated this song so much, especially when he knew that Ryan wrote it for him. What else would be the perfect torture? 

Brendon banged on the walls, covered his ears and kicked the walls, demanding he be let out. That he had suffered enough. Obviously, he wasn't the boss of that. The people behind it all didn't think so. 

 

-•End Of Flashback•-

 

Brendon just sat in complete silence as he drove his car to work, one of the things they allowed him to buy of his own choice. They treated him and other musicians like caged animals, if they behaved, they were treated. It wasn't fair at all. To be waking up every morning to be doing something you didn't want to do. If Brendon and a few others had it their way, they'd run so far and never look back, plan their escapes and stuff but that was impossible. Brendon knew deep down, his heart was telling him that these people had bugged his apartment and places that he went to frequently. 

 

He had a complete and utter fear of telling someone what was truly going on in his life. He was afraid of the action they'd take on him and his frail body and on the people he loved so much, his family and the duo known as the Twenty One Pilots.

 

Ever since their signing to the label, Brendon felt like he could talk to them and confide in them. They were treated just as badly as him. And Brendon couldn't bare to face the random stories of how josh messed up whilst learning new instruments and the action the label people took. They worked them too hard, damaged them too much. 

 

Brendon parked his vehicle outside of the building and shut off the engine. 

It took one glance at the building for him to break down and cry against the steering wheel. He couldn't do this anymore. Go to "work" get into trouble for things he didn't mean, watch his friends get into trouble for things they didn't mean to do. This was all Pete Wentz's fault. He knew the label all too well, he knew how they would treat him and his bandmates yet he still ushered to sign them on. 

What sort of a human was he to have done that to him? To have done that to his old friends? 

 

Spencer was lucky, he did drugs and he escaped, he's probably happy now, free to live his life. Out of rehab. But why did he go alone? Why didn't he take Brendon with him? Why didn't he tell Brendon he was doing drugs to get his ass out of there? In the end, Spencer was just like them wasn't he? A back stabber. Because if he care for Brendon like he always emphasised, he would help him out wouldn't he? But he didn't, Spencer ran away and showed no sign of coming back to help his friend, ex best friend. 

 

Brendon didn't want to be caught up in his thoughts right now, he'd rather stab his ears still they bleed and stop hearing and talking. Live in some kind of peace that he wasn't going to be getting anytime soon. 

 

The male singer checked his phone and saw he had a minute left to get himself into the building. As he scrambled out, he took his phone and jacket, locked the door and sped off towards the work place. Still very dark. 

 

"It's about time Urine, we were getting small room seven all cozy for you." Jonathan cackled, the man who stood by the doors every morning, ensuring that all personnel arrived on time and even ridiculed them. Brendon knew it was best to just ignore him and handle himself if he mentioned the slightest about his old bandmates and Ryan.

 

The male did as his brain told him and walked off towards to his main studio, just to make some new tracks or beats. But these were never used on the album. All things were written for them, these singers didn't have a mind of their own. Extra instruments, they were forced to play, certain vocals, they were forced to reach. And the strain was overwhelming, it made Brendon sick. 

 

"I-I did do it, I promise, Tyler even saw me, right Tyler?" Josh yelled from inside a studio room, his voice muffled because of the closed door. There was a long silence and Brendon knew what was to come. 

 

He heard a dull thud and a groan come from the inside. "Now why would dumb protect dumber?" There's another thud and then the voice speaks again. "You tell me next time Dun, you understand? Do you want to end up like Urie in those rooms? No I didn't think so. Now do your job properly." The voice says and Brendon quickly flees from outside of the door and into his studio. 

Why was it that Josh always did something wrong? Why never Tyler? It was a horrible thing to think but why was it Josh was always getting pain? Was he covering for Tyler? Brendon shook his head, maybe he was afraid, too afraid and maybe Josh was an amazing friend who looked out for him since he was bigger. 

 

Brendon wished he had someone like that.

 

|-/ \\-|

 

Brendon had been working in the studio for what seemed like forever but was only three hours, listening to the occasional muttering of the engineers, saying something demeaning about the singer to each other but loud enough for him to hear. After doing their work, they decided to head off and take a break. Brendon also exit the studio and made his way towards Josh and Tyler's studio. 

As he walked down the empty halls, his stomach growled loudly. He did not eat since last night and he skipped breakfast this morning.  Brendon was a huge fan of alcohol and he used it often to drown everyone out. He became too reliant on the stuff to actually remember to eat something. 

 

He could hear them from the inside, Tyler's piano and a faint strumming of a ukulele. As Brendon swung the door, he noticed Josh flinch straight away but then a smile paint his face. "Hey Brendon." The male greeted with a toothy smile. Josh was always so upbeat, sweet and caring, he had no vicious bone in his body. In his hands was a ukulele. "Hey Tyler." Brendon also says smiling towards the other vocalist who had nothing but the void of emotion on his face.  

 

Brendon looks back over to Josh and notices his lip split and swollen. They must have abused him for doing absolute nothing. The male knew that these people would hit them for hitting a wrong note, not being able to perform to their fullest and just what they classed as slacking off. Brendon knew that Josh and Tyler tried their hardest. He even gave them a few pointers on their first day since he was too late to save them from their messed up record deal. 

 

He didn't want to ask the drummer why he got the bruised lip but at the same time, he couldn't tear his gaze away from the cut. Why Josh? Out of all people. He was harmless, loveable and just a big softie who wouldn't hurt a fly, who'd always put others before himself. 

 

If ever one day, they were free, Brendon would make them pay, a whole lot.

 

Tyler was just in his own world but still listening and paying attention to his surroundings. He felt a whole lot guilty inside.

 

Josh noticed Brendon staring at his lip and then he smiled, reassuringly. "It didn't hurt Bren, don't worry. They just thought I wasn't playing the drums properly." 

 

'They just thought' 

 

Josh knew he was playing them as best as he could. Those assholes just loved hurting him, watch them suffer and for what? Why? 

"Oh Josh, I'm sorry man. Those--" He cut himself off before he could say anything else. They would hear him, then send him back to small room seven. 

Tyler on the other hand felt a lump in his throat, he was the one who was supposed to be apologising to Josh. He was the one who did this to Josh.

The ukulele that he was holding was the cause of it all. Tyler had strummed the instrument a little too hard and one of the strings had snapped and obviously it didn't go unnoticed. Tyler was mortified by these men and what they could do to him. He was just skinny and he was afraid of any major damage to his body.

 

That's why he always used rubber bands and avoided blades. He was just a softie too. Josh noticed how pale the vocalist became and his hands had been shaking crazily. So the drummer took the rap for everything, making everything look believable and now Josh was suffering a split lip because of him. That beautiful face had been ruined because he was a chicken and couldn't defend himself. 

 

In the end, Tyler also wanted to prove to Josh that he was independent and that if anything else was to happen, Tyler would take the blame for him too because that's what friends did for each other. 

 

"I'm going out to buy some brunch or something, you guys want to come along?" He asked.

 

A small smile formed on Tyler's face, a huge one on Josh's and a fairly normal one on Brendon. Whilst they were out together, Brendon knew that these assholes couldn't touch them because this time was theirs to confide in each other. 

Where there was no FBR workers, there was no worry. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave some kudos, comments and love :D
> 
> Please ignore any grammar or spelling mistakes.


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